I would like to share with the world what I believe to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. I will on occasion also rant, guffaw and occasionally mumble audibly but mostly I will share the wonder that is the Lakes Region area of New Hampshire, USA and my small little piece of heaven.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

“Sure, I’d love to see your record collection”, Prudence said as she took another long pull of the long neck and let that liquid courage spill down her throat. She mostly meant it but it was mostly beer doing the talking. How long had it been since she’d been in a bar and how long since she had made herself available to be “picked up”? Thirteen years, if her beer soaked brain was working correctly. That’s a long time to “keep” your self for someone, who in the end never showed. Her head kept playing that Brandi Carlile song, “Someday Never Comes”. She had memorized every word to that song she had played it so much and now she was starting to second guess her ability to follow through on tonight’s plan. He smiled at her as he walked across the room towards her, cowboy hat and all. This east coast transplant was more comfortable in a nightclub in Boston was letting a cowboy pick her up in a honky-tonk in Oklahoma and take her home.

Prudence thought of all that had happened in the last year. Her youngest graduated high school and had landed a pretty sweet job. Her oldest had his first baby, now starting an adventure of his own and her daughter moved into her own apartment. The nest was empty, her mothering job finally finished, at least the biggest part. Now it was time to focus her attention on herself for the first time in seventeen years. The kids were just 8, 4 and 3 when she divorced their dad, moving them all into a 12x48, 1976 mobile home. Sacrifice became the new norm those first few years. She sacrificed time with them to start a new career that demanded 12-hour days to provide for the second income that was also sacrificed in the divorce. Her parents sacrificed afternoons for pick up, delivery, homework and bath time for their grandchild. But in the last seventeen years she had more than made up for the rough start. A custom built home, an income that exceed the two-income household they had left and now, all of them grown, graduated and working towards their own futures.

She didn't realized they had made it out of the bar until she was standing outside. The sky had opened up, clearing the air briefly of the humidity that she had come to hate since arriving in Oklahoma. He asked her to wait at the door while he went and got his ride. A gentleman, well hopefully not too much of one, she giggled to herself. Then it hit her, that moment of realization. The last 13 years of her life had been spent without any physical contact, if you know what I mean. Did it just come back, you know like riding a bike? She wondered what kind of pickup he drove? Cowboys and pickups, right? That’s when a fully restored, two door, two toned blue and cream, 1955 Chevy Bel Air, V-8 pulled up to the curb. Rumbling almost as loud as her pulse. The passenger door swung open, and a strong hand was offered, she slid in. She didn’t know where she was headed exactly. Hell, she hadn’t really known that since she left New Hampshire six months ago but if his car was any indication of the ride to come she was going to need a seat belt!